


Die, Cupid, Die!

by Jantique



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-15
Updated: 2013-02-15
Packaged: 2017-11-29 09:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/685551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantique/pseuds/Jantique
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Romantic? You think this is <i>romantic</i>? This, Steven--this is the <i>antithesis</i> of romance! Believe me, there is nothing romantic about spending money and giving presents on a certain day just because the calendar says to!"<br/>Danny's allergic to Valentine's Day, but he <i>doesn't</i> warn Steve in advance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Die, Cupid, Die!

**Author's Note:**

> Malia is alive. Deal.

Valentine’s Day. Danny just sat back and waited for the inevitable. Sure enough, at lunchtime Chin said he had an errand to run. Steve just said “Sure,” but Danny couldn’t let it pass.

“Chin, my man! Don’t tell me you didn’t get anything for Malia yet, and you just realized that today is Valentine’s Day!” He smirked, smug that he no longer needed to perform that husbandly duty.

Chin looked annoyed. “As a matter of fact, I ordered something for Malia weeks ago. I just have to go to the jeweler to pick it up. If that’s all right with you.”

Danny put up his hands conciliatorily. “Hey, sorry, sorry, I should have known that you would be on top of it. What was I thinking?”

Chin gave him a look that clearly said, ‘ _What indeed_?”, but left without another word. And wouldn’t show him what he’d gotten when he came back.

In the afternoon, Kono received two bouquets, from Charlie Fong and Ben Bass, respectively, and one perfect long-stemmed red rose--with a pair of dazzling emerald-and-diamond earrings attached--from Adam Noshimuri. Danny was willing to bet that the earrings were hot, but he wisely kept his mouth shut. Kono didn’t like anyone trash-talking her man, and Danny was more afraid of her than he was of Adam.

But the topper on the cake, the straw that broke the back of Danny’s tranquility--and he had been remarkably calm all day, not having to participate in the obscene spectacle any longer--was Steve sauntering into his office and saying, “It’s nice to see people being romantic.”

That did it. Danny jumped to his feet, and a flood of words that he had restrained for _years_ came gushing out. (With appropriate hand gestures.)

“Romantic? You think this is _romantic_? This, Steven--this is the _antithesis_ of romance! Believe me, there is nothing romantic about spending money and giving presents on a certain day just because the calendar says to! If you don’t buy flowers and expensive presents and go out to dinner someplace you can’t afford, then either your girlfriend dumps you cold, or your wife doesn’t speak to you, and you wind up sleeping on the couch for a week, and your kid wants to know, “Don’t you love Mommy anymore?” Then all the guys give you shit, because hey, if they had to do it, you have to do it. It‘s not romantic; it‘s totally commercial!”

He hastily drew breath, and went on, “Steve, the best part of being in a relationship with a guy is that--well, no, actually it’s the sex, and not having to put the seat down--but a _really_ important part is not having to go through that anymore, just so Hallmark and the florists and jewelers can make money! Your birthday, sure, I want to celebrate your birthday, and if we have any special occasions or anniversaries we want to commemorate, fine. And if you want to do something nice for me, or I feel like giving you a present in April or August or November, great! But you don’t have to prove that you love me every February 14th, and I hope that I don’t have to prove it to you, either!”

Steve looked stunned, as if a flash-bang had unexpectedly exploded in his face. Finally, he said, “Uh, no, Danny, you don’t have to prove you love me. Of course not. Um, let me take you out to dinner, okay? ”

Danny looked highly suspicious, but Steve quickly went on, “I know a very exclusive spot, the _chez_ McGarrett lanai.”

Danny grinned and went along. “Hard to get reservations, is it?”

“Oh, you have to know someone. I understand the chef is preparing his special steak a la grill tonight, paired with 2013 Longboards.”

“That,” Danny declared, “is exactly where I want to go for dinner tonight. Couldn’t think of anything better.”

When they got home, they got comfortable and setting about preparing dinner. Knowing there were only a few beers left in the fridge, Danny went to the garage to get more, only to find the door locked. Key-locked.

“Oh, Steven,” he called out sweetly, “Why is the garage door locked?

Steve hastened to the kitchen. “Umm, what do you need to go in the garage for?”

“We need more beer.”

“I brought a couple of six-packs in the house. They’re on the floor next to the fridge.”

Yes, Danny perceived, so they were. But he was not to be distracted from the point. “Steven, are you storing weapons, ammo, incendiary devices, any and all of the above, in the garage? _Again_?”

About to deny it vehemently, Steve stopped, scratched the back of his neck, and said, “I can neither confirm nor deny.” He knew _exactly_ how Danny would take that.

But to his surprise, Danny spread out his hands and said, “Fine. I’m in such a good mood tonight, I’m going to let it pass. Just promise me they’ll be gone by next Wednesday when Grace gets here.”

Steve quickly agreed. “I promise, there will be no weapons or explosives in the garage when Grace gets here.”

“Good. Now let’s go celebrate the Weekday Formerly Known As Valentine’s Day.” And if they both happened to “get lucky” later on, that was just because they loved each other. It had—Danny was at pains to point out—no relation to Overexploited Commercial Holidays. Steve didn’t argue. It was enough that they were together.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day was Friday. They had two chases (one car, one foot), but no one on Five-0 was injured and they wrapped it all up by 6:00, so it was a win.

Then came Saturday, and Danny had promised to go surfing with Steve. Steve seemed nervous all morning. Finally, after breakfast and coffee, Danny said, “Steve, I’m perfectly willing to go surfing, but if you don’t want to, say so. Or whatever it is you’re dithering about, just tell me.”

“I don’t dither!” Steve protested.

“Steven. Just talk to me, okay?”

Steve bit his lip. “I, um, got you something. For surfing.”

“Really?” Thank you.” A pause, then, “Can I see it?”

“Uh, it’s in the garage. I’ll get it.” Ah, the Garage Mystery was about to be solved. Danny waited, and a minute Steve came back, carrying a longboard. But not his own surfboard or the cast-off that Danny had been using. This one was clearly new, with fresh paint. Red and white, and it had the New Jersey Devils distinctive logo on the front.

Danny’s mouth hung open for a moment, before breaking into a delighted grin. “That is gorgeous! You got that for me—of course, you got it for me, who else on this island? Thank you, this is _great_!”

Steve smiled, happy that Danny enjoyed his present.

And then Danny went on, “See, this is exactly what I was talking about! You got me a present—for surfing! Nothing to do with—” And the penny dropped. The board had been in the garage since Thursday. Steve had gotten it for _Valentine’s Day_.

“Oh, babe!” Danny looked at Steve, but couldn’t meet his eyes. “Steve, I’m so, so sorry! You got it for Valentine’s Day, and I just shot you down; I didn’t even let you give it to me.”

Steve helplessly tried to make his lover feel better.  “No, it’s okay. You were right, everything you said.”

Danny shook his head emphatically. “No. Just no. I’ve had some bad experiences, okay, but I took them out on you. That’s _not_ okay. I was fucking insensitive! Me! I should have—should have talked to you, asked if you had plans; we could have _negotiated_. Instead, I just ranted at you, and that’s not right. I’m really so sorry.” He looked up hopefully. “Forgive me?”

Steve started to nod, stopped, thought about it. Finally he said, “Apology noted; acceptance pending.”

“Ouch! Okay, I deserve that. Can I keep the board? I mean, who else can you give it to?”

“I could ship it to your sisters in New Jersey. Or save it until Grace grows up.”

Danny relaxed. They were back on solid territory. “A, they don’t surf, and B, do _not_ talk to me about my little girl growing up! How many times have I told you that?”

Steve waggled his eyebrows. “Well, you could make it worth my while.”

“Hey, babe, I _always_ make it worth your while! Don’t I?”

He looked so irresistible, Steve just had to kiss him. Which suited Danny just fine. He was really getting into it—tongues dueling, bodies melting, hands clutching—when Steve pulled away.

“What? What’s wrong now?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Steve said smugly. “We can do that later. Right now, we have some surfing to do!” 

Oh, well. “Lead on,” Danny said grandly. “The waves are calling my name. And you’d better not bang into my beautiful new board, McGarrett!”

Steve chuckled. “Oh, you mean after you wipe out, Williams?”

Danny replied haughtily, “For your information, I do _not_ wipe out. Sometimes when I’m surfing, I take swimming breaks.”

“ _Swimming breaks_?!” Steve bent over double, he was laughing so hard. Which enabled Danny to not only stow the boards in the car, but also to dash into the driver’s seat. _Ha! Take that_!

END

 

 


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